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Security Envelopes

by A. Paige White


Security envelopes
one box of 40 whites
empty, awaiting
a broken arm that was, to bespeak the sprain
of calling for help
no sham pain, this to sip
my cue to answer
within a flight bare of all but minimums
the maximum value
'fore a dance in our inditer's refrain

I see a poem to "Mother"
three stanzas
I
love
you


three rugs covering the danger zone
for feet quickened to the call...
to measure a fall in the fall with wings

but most of all...

I note them small.

06/10/2010

Author's Note:

My writing timelines leap around afar and away ahead to...
always a day late...

Poetic Asides per Bruce Neidt's inspiring posts

Posted on 06/10/2010
Copyright © 2021
A. Paige White

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Johnny Crimson on 06/11/10 at 06:12 PM

"withing a flight bare of all but minimums" Nicely done.

Posted by Glenn Currier on 06/12/10 at 04:39 AM

I like the way you took up the challenge from Robert and placed me right there over your shoulders. Got the allusion to the pain and the sprain. Thanks for bringing your poetic camera into your space and sharing your shots.

Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 06/25/10 at 08:06 PM

Dealing with pain in a surrealistic fashion hopefully brings some relief and satisfaction.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 06/20/12 at 01:20 PM

the language here is free as a bird to venture where it will and then some.

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